


Woodland

by iwillwalk500miles



Series: Iterum (again & again & again & again) [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Annie Leonhart-centric, Blood Magic, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fluff and Angst, Magic, Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager Are Siblings, Mikasa Ackerman & Levi Are Related, Minor Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager, Necromancy, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, The power of friendship, andrew leonhardt is my baby boy, annie has a little brother, eren's mom is wonderful, except eren's mom, parents are not... great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:09:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillwalk500miles/pseuds/iwillwalk500miles
Summary: Annie Leonhardt lives in a world that doesn't feel like her own. What comes is the realization that she and select others are being watched by a mysterious stranger, another teenager with a warrior's bloodline, and the decision to live past twenty.





	1. LUMPS OF COAL

Annie wakes up in the morning with the terrible feeling that she does not belong. It sits on her chest, compressing and all encompassing, as though there's a sudden and explicable weight on her shoulders. It presses _down_ _down_ _down_ on her chest, suffocating and silencing her; for a brief lull in time, she finds herself imagining a giant nearly skinless woman, pressing fingers made of bone lazily against her body, holding her down lethargically. The figure smiles, or tries to, and opens a mouth far too wide for anything human. What had she been dreaming about again? It couldn't have been this monstrosity, she was sure to have remembered that, there was no way she could ever see herself forgetting. Annie slowly sat up, drowsily blinking away the fog that had settled in her brain. What had she been dreaming about?

_ Annie, fall. _

She shook off the chill that had slithered down her spine. Why did she wake up to no sound? Why was she so suspicious about the peace and quiet? She fought a sleepy scowl, didn't her father usually spend all night experimenting with his strange magic? An explosion would’ve wracked the house when it was time to get up, followed by the loud sounds of a short and stubby man whooping in excitement. But not today, it seemed. Annie gathered her thoughts for a moment, pushing off the comforter of her bed and beginning to stand. She had to get up early today, she realized, because summer is over.

_ Oh no, _ Annie thought, _ summer is over. _

Just like that, the amount of dread in her stomach sky rocketed. It wasn’t like she hated high school, per say, but it she was a senior now—and that meant it was time to choose a magic school to study in. There were different ones all across the country, advanced charms and transfiguration and potions—it wasn’t that she feared what path she was going to take. It was more that she was being forced out of the only home she’d ever known, ushered into a world that didn’t have her scatterbrained father or sulky little brother. It also didn’t help that she would rather lay in bed all day than do anything that might have prepared her for her future. 

She fought a grimace when she noticed how early it was, and forced herself to get up and make breakfast. Annie was abysmal at cooking things, a trait that everyone in her family shared, but was by far the only one who could actually make anything edible. She huffed, flipping a half-burnt pancake and doing her best not to wake her father (who was passed out on the couch.) An hour before she had to be at school, her brother finally snuck his way into the kitchen.

Andrew was a tiny thing, barely in first grade and already entirely too much like his sister. He shared her eyes, cold and blue, but his hair was curly and brown, a splattering of freckles across his pudgy cheeks and the bridge of his hooked nose. He resembled her, sure, but not one person would assume they were siblings unless explicitly told. Andrew yawned into a tiny pale hand, “Did you burn the pancakes again?” He scratched at his nose.

“Shut up and eat.” Annie deadpanned, shoving a plate of food in front of him and ruffling his curly hair. “Wake up dad when you’re done, I have to go get ready.”

Andrew snorted. “Dad’s probably dead.” He rolled his eyes and gestured to where their father lay, snoring and shifting on the beat up couch. “C’mon, Squish, he _ reeks _ of death magic.” He stuffed a bit of pancake in his mouth, “Don’t tell me you can’t smell it, Annie, those rit-ual-ist-ic—” (he had to sound out the word) “—things he does is enough to make _ anyone _ wanna hurl.” 

“Just do it, Andy.” She sighed, “Summer’s over, we have to shock him into stop playing and get back to work so we don’t starve and die.” Annie left him pouting without another word, walking down the hall and to her small bedroom. The area was still swathed in darkness, as Annie despised daylight, and was crammed with different beat up books about experimental magic. If you weren’t paying attention, you could easily trip over the amounts of information on the floor, smacking your head onto her shabby old desk, and causing a tidal wave of books to fall on your head, ending your miserable life. (Or maybe that was just her.) 

Annie wasn’t _ actually _ interested in the contents of the books themselves, but they were an unfortunate necessity, as her father tended to do experiments half-cocked and without the actual research needed to do things safely. She couldn’t count how many times she had to go to the local library and check out books on things like advanced runes or arthimacy or even _ alchemy _ (you had to have a license for that last one) to fix something stupid her father had done. It got to the point where the local librarian was actually endeared to her, grinning behind their weirdly shaped goggles and happily asking what kind of weird science she was up for learning next. Usually Annie would have just told them to fuck off and finish looking for her books, but Librian Zoë was actually really helpful in undoing her father’s stupidness, so she allowed the adult to ramble to her about weird conspiracy theories and magic. 

She’d even accidentally made an acquaintance because of her frequent library adventures, a boy by the name of Armin who always looked at the subjects of her books a little disapprovingly, but happily explained anything that she hadn’t understood. They had a sort of weird kinship with each other, considering they both had very little close friends and spent most of their time surrounded by books, and Armin had taken to smiling at her whenever he saw her. Annie didn’t always smile back, but she did wave a couple of times, if only because she’d known this boy since she was five and it seemed like the decent thing to do.

Annie sighed, pulling on an old hoodie with frayed sleeves and shoving her legs into a pair of pale blue pants. She kind of hated everything at that moment. Pulling her hair into a bun and grabbing her faded orange backpack, she grabbed the book she had been reading about experimental necromancy (remembering the comment Andrew had made about Dad smelling like death) and shoved her way out of her room. 

“For fucks sake, Dad! Wake the hell up!” A squeaky child’s voice said from the living room.

Annie froze, walking forward and shooting her younger brother a sharp look. “Where the _ fuck _ did you learn that language?” He was standing on top of their father, holding a blue plastic bat and hitting Dad over the head with it.

Andrew shot her an unimpressed look. “Your silencing charms suck shit.” He grumbled, jumping off of their father’s back. “He’s out, Squish, I think it’s a magical problem.” 

Annie didn’t move for a second, before pinching the bridge of her nose. “Get dressed for school, and stay in your room until I come out and tell you it’s safe.” She dropped her back pack, leaning down and tying the shoes of her boots, she didn’t want to trip if she accidentally summoned a demon. 

Andrew groaned out loud. “_C’mon_, Annie, you never let me see what happens!”

“That’s because Dad’s a suicidal prick who forgets he has a seven year old in the house who’s never ever cast a functioning flashlight charm.” She grumbled. “When you know how, maybe I’ll let you see me do illegal magic, now go to your room.”

He groaned again, mumbling something about how _ she _ got to cast magic when she was _ five _, and walked to his room, slamming the door behind him. Absentmindedly casting a spell that would keep his room closed until the house was safe, Annie turned and faced her sleeping father, a slight sneer on her face when she looked at him. 

“Alright, Dad. Let’s see what bullshit you got yourself into this time.” She mumbled, absentmindedly flipping through the book. After finding the chapter on detection spells (there was a warning in bold letters not to do anything if not a professional, which Annie swiftly ignored.) She wasn’t any good at the simple stuff, the structured magic, and did most things by instinct. It made her complicated spellwork more powerful, but was utterly useless in things that were considered ‘simple’ or ‘easy'. She drew the runes on her palm, practicing the motions before pulling out a pen (infused with a bit of earth magic) and carefully drew on her father’s forehead, careful to keep her intent clear. 

It glowed a faint blue color, and Annie couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Blue meant that he wasn’t too far gone. Concentrating, she splayed her hand on his chest, flipping him on his back and grabbing a towel to wipe the rune from his forehead. She fiddled with her ring, then, flicking it so the small but sharp claw cut the palm of her hand. Using her other fingers, she gathered some of the liquid and placed five dots of blood on his face, pressing down with her entire hand, the tips of her fingernails cutting into his face. 

_ “Wake up, Dad.” _

He shot upward, warm hazel eyes blinking rapidly. “Oh.” He said, voice week, “Has summer ended already?” He turned to face Annie. “That was quite a stroke of brilliance, you know, using the earth pen—more accuracy, even if you were risking a nasty stroke of harmful magic.” Dad looked dazed, still, his nose flared a little (one that did not at all resemble his children’s) “Do I smell pancakes?”

“You can eat in a second.” She mumbled, grabbing a brush soaked in snake venom. “I need to make sure you weren’t poisoned.” 

“Of course, of course.” He nodded rapidly, leaning back onto the couch. “I’d recommend using a mixture between Pomphrey’s Stasis Rune, and Banner’s Dark Magic Detecting Spell.” He added when she lifted the brush, happily giving her some information. _ Always teaching. _She thought to herself, unsure if the thought was bitter or fond.

“I was thinking of using the stasis rune the hospitals use for magic poisoning,” She admitted, “Then going over it with a bit of banshee blood, which would counteract the negative effects of the necromancy used to wake you.” Annie shrugged, “After that, a minor healing and plus mana potion.”

Her father positively shook with excitement. “How experimental!” He cooed, “Alright dear, I trust you, don’t feel bad if some silly consequences like loss of hair happens!” 

“Right.” She mumbled, subtly rolling her eyes. “Close your eyes, yeah?”

After it was done, her father grinned fully, now bald. “Wonderful!” He beamed. “I’ll have to wear a wig to work now, of course, just until the rot gets out of my system, but dare I say it’s worked better than anything I could have come up with in a week!” He brought his knees to his pudgy chest, “And you’ve only had, _ what_? Ten minutes to work this out? Very proud of you, dear.”

Annie’s face didn’t change, “Thanks Dad, I’m going to go get Andrew.”

“Of course.” He stood, making his way towards the kitchen table and serving himself a couple of pancakes, happily humming as he shoved them (drowned in syrup) into his mouth. 

She rolled her eyes, making her way to her younger brother’s room. “Andrew,” She said as she opened the door, “Dad’s awake and can take you to school now—” Annie stopped in her tracks, staring at her little brother.

“Um…” Andrew squeaked, desperately trying to hide something behind his small shoulders, “How are you?”

It wasn't hard to see what he was trying to keep a secret, the large bowl and shimmery projection on his wall was a dead give away.

“A scrying spell, Andy? Really?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Why didn’t you tell me your magic came in?” Annie glared down at him, “Worse, why did you watch me wake dad up when I _ specifically _ told you not to?” 

“Squish!” He tried, laughing awkwardly, “Whatever do you mean? I was just…” He looked around his room desperately, “Trying to find… stuff about… _ the game_.” Andrew turned to face her, expression serious as he nodded frantically. “You know how… _ the game _ is very interesting, very attention catching.” He placed a hand on his chin stroking it absentmindedly. “Yup, that’s what I was doing.”

“Andrew.” She deadpanned. “The spell is still focused on the living room.” Sure enough, looking into the bowl revealed the sight of her father gorging himself on half burnt pancakes. 

“Oh.” He mumbled. “Drat.” 

“What seven year old says ‘drat’?” She mumbled rubbing at her face tiredly. “Just get dressed, Andy.” Annie sighed, “I have senior orientation today, remember? Can’t skip.” Her words were sarcastic, but Andrew didn’t seem to notice.

“Annie?” He asked, pulling on a wrinkled shirt with the picture of smiling old wizard on the front, “What was that magic you used? I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

“Necromancy.” She said, looking down at her watch and scowling. They only had twenty minutes to get Andrew to school and she hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. She was going to have to wake up even earlier next time. 

“Isn’t that illegal?” He asked, pulling on his light up sketchers. “Bobby’s older brother said that only super wrinkled old people do it, and they always look like over-boiled onions with weird hats.” Andrew grabbed his tiny backpack, “You’re not super old, even if you look like an over-boiled potato.”

“Bobby’s older brother is stupid.” She said, thinking of the teenager in question. “He only says stuff like that to scare Bobby into doing what he asks.” Annie looked back at her brother while raising an eyebrow. “Wait… are you calling me ugly, Andy?”

“Yeah, thought that was obvious.” He hummed, taking her hand and leading her back to the living room, “Can you undo the spell for me?” Annie nodded, waving her hand and ending her brother’s spell easily. Andrew looked back up at her, interest plain on his face as he watched her quickly take down his hard work. “Hey, if Bobby’s older brother is so stupid, why do you hang out with him?”

“To feel better about myself.” She answered without missing a beat. “Got your stuff, Andy?”

“Stop worrying, Squish.” Andrew rolled his eyes, “This isn’t my first _ ever _ day of school.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t immune to sudden lapses of forgetfulness.” Annie answered back, before turning to her father, who was still ravenously eating his pancakes. “Dad, are you going to be able to take Andy to school today?” 

Their father didn’t even answer, instead responding by tossing her his car keys. “I’ll take the bus to work.” He looked up once, before returning to his pancakes. 

“Right.” Annie rolled her eyes and picked up her bag. “C’mon Andy, we’ll take Bobby and his idiot brother to school today.”

“Sounds festive.” Andrew nodded seriously, taking her hand again before leading her out of the house. 

* * *

“So how was your summer, Annie?” Reiner asked from the front seat as they went to school. Her broad shouldered friend could be kind of an idiot, brash and impulsive, but he was actually very kind—sometimes picking up on things about people that Annie missed. She supposed that in his own way, he was very smart. His easy going smile and sandy blonde hair was inviting, and he never questioned why she had to cancel plans to take care of Andrew, which made him an ideal friend to have. 

“The usual.” She answered in a bored tone. “Tried not to accidentally send my dad into an alternate hell dimension, took Andy to his tee-ball games, you know—stuff like that.” It was true, her father’s excursions could easily have consequences like that, not to mention that because of them he never had any time to take Andrew to things like sports practice.

“Cool.” He said simply. “I sucked Bertholdt’s dick.” Reiner’s face was absolutely shameless, his lips perking up in a way that only meant he was very proud of his accomplishment.

“Oh?” She asked, looking at him curiously. “That’s nice, you’ve been wanting to do that since you learned what a blow job was.” Annie didn’t know Bertholdt Hoover all that well, Reiner being one of the only people she actually interacted with, but talked to him enough to consider him a casual acquaintance. Still, a lingering amount of worry settled onto her heart, and in a brief moment of weakness, she wondered if Reiner would ditch her now that he’d gotten what he wanted. 

He sighed happily. “I’m pretty sure we’re dating now.” The blissed out look on his face was enough to make her stop worrying.

“Cool.” She said simply, her face was still arranged in the usual bored mask, but there was a genuine happiness in her voice that he didn’t miss. “Just don’t make things weird, and we’ll be chill.” 

“Cool.” He responded, the rest of the ride to school spent in relatively comfortable silence. They passed various buildings and fast food places, finally entering the school’s student parking lot, simultaneously rolling their eyes when they were cut off by Eren Jaeger. “Ass.” Reiner mumbled patting Annie on the shoulder when her grip on the steering wheel tightened. 

Eren got out of his car, along with his sister and best friend, paying them absolutely no attention. Armin waved at her, looking apologetic, then followed Eren inside of the school.

“Whatever.” Annie mumbled, “He’s just pissed because I always beat him in Advanced Spell Crafting.” It was true, Eren Jaeger had suddenly had a weird vendetta against her since freshman year, when she scored second highest on the first test. (His sister had gotten first.) Ever since then, he made it his absolute mission to be a tiny thorn in her side, which Annie always ignored—far too lazy to actually deal with him. Her response (or lack of it) always seemed to anger him further.

“It’s so weird though.” Reiner pointed out, “Like, he’s always in fifth place, why doesn’t he mess with Historia? You know, the person directly above him?”

“You’re asking why he doesn’t mess with _ Historia_? Seriously?” Annie snorted, pulling into a vacant parking space. “Not only is she an absolute angel, Ymir would fuck him up, and his personal body guard wouldn’t do a thing to help him because she actually _ likes _ Historia.” It was true, Eren’s sister seemed to absolutely adore the other girl, as much as someone like her _ could _ adore someone, anyway.

“Fair point.” Reiner conceded, “If I wasn’t simultaneously in love with Bertl and afraid of Ymir, I would propose to that girl in an _ instant_.”

Annie snorted, a rare smile finding itself on her face. “Like you’d actually have a chance.” She grabbed her bag slipping out of the car. 

“Hey! Having her gaze upon me is a privilege onto itself!” Reiner protested, before swishing his hair and turning away dramatically. “You wouldn’t understand, you’ve never liked anyone… _ ever_.” He said it teasingly, but there was an openness in his sky blue eyes that made it clear that he wasn’t judging her. It was obvious that he was trying very hard to get her to talk to him about things like ‘feelings’ but she couldn’t quite find the appeal of divulging that type of information to someone.

“That’s because I’m always busy.” She shrugged, trying not to look up at him from her boots. “And it isn’t like it actually bothers me.” It was true, to an extent at least. There was a moment in time that she might have found herself liking Armin or even _ Eren _ (or even Eren’s _ sister_) but immediately got over any actual infatuation she may have had.

Reiner shrugged, “I dunno, Annie—maybe you should consider finding an epic senior year romance! Or at least a buddy you can fuck with.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she had to physically hold in the amount of revolution that had surfaced with a single comment.

“_No_, thanks.” Annie mumbled, wrinkling her nose. The very thought was nearly enough to send her into a spiral of absolute disgust (and also a fair bit of panic.)

“What are we talking about, fellow half humans?” Bertholdt asked, his stupidly tall person appearing out of nowhere. His grin was broad and awkward, dark hair sticking up in tufts around his ears and forehead. Annie rolled her eyes, shoving at his shoulder when he greeted her, she kind of hated how tall he had gotten. Idly, she wondered if Reiner would mind if she cut him in half.

“This is quarter human erasure.” Reiner protested, kissing Bertholdt’s cheek. He gestured to Annie. “Very rude.”

“I literally can not care less.” She deadpanned, leading them inside, making her way to the gymnasium where Senior Orientation would start. Everyone parted for her, shooting her slightly fearful looks, causing Annie to inwardly roll her eyes. Not only did her expressionless face and (not so great) reputation make others generally avoid her, but she hadn’t been able to get the death magic smell out of her clothes. That was according to Andrew at least, who suggested that she change. She had protested, saying that the teenagers in her school wouldn’t be able to tell _ exactly _ the kind of magic that she had been practicing (Andrew was _ very _ proficient when it came to sniffing out different types of magic) but knew that the students would at least avoid her, sensing something _ off _ with her person.

“Why is everyone looking at you weird?” Bertholdt asked, frowning. He looked oddly protective, which made Annie feel slightly better about the freshman leaping hastily out of her way. With one move, he had accidentally made her wholeheartedly approve of his involvement with Reiner, her best friends flings never tried to talk to her, instead making it very obvious they’d rather be anywhere but near her. Annie never really cared, but Reiner had taken it as a great personal offense. “They’re more afraid than usual.”

“My father likes to… experiment sometimes.” She shrugged, dodging a sophomore who had tripped on his feet to get away from her. Annie didn’t want to divulge any further information in front of someone who wasn’t Reiner, but the look on Bertholdt’s face (pinched up and profoundly worried) stole some words from her mouth. “Not all of it is socially acceptable.” An understatement, to say the least. She snorted when she thought of the blood runes and necromancy. “He’s fine though.”

“Don’t tell me you had to interfere again...” Reiner frowned, pursing his lips, “You’re too reckless sometimes, my dudette.” He tried to look chastising, but couldn’t quite succeed, coming off as constipated more than anything. “Messing with that shit is kinda scary, you know?”

Bertholdt grimaced. “He isn’t wrong, Annie. I don’t know much about what he does, but judging from the looks on everyone’s faces—” He gestured to the terrified students, “—it isn’t anything good.” 

Annie forced herself not to snap at him. “It’s whatever.” She grumbled, “How was your summer anyway?”

The three of them chattered on about their vacation, making their way inside the gym and finding spots in the rearmost bleachers. All of them let out a collective sigh of relief, sitting in the front was an absolutely terrible way to spend _ normal _ assemblies. ‘Senior Orientation’ was the most dreaded gathering in the school, with older students sharing horror stories with tiny freshman and solemnly warning the underclassmen to be prepared for an absolute shit show. Personally, Annie thought that the seniors only did it to mess with everyone, but that didn’t stop the pang of apprehension from forming. When they sat down, Annie pulled out a book and stuck an earphone in one ear. Reiner and Bertholdt moved to tease each other, so Annie quickly turned on her music. (She normally would have joined in on the light hazing, but their banter seemed loaded with romantic undertones, and she had been meaning to read the book anyway—she’d seen her father examining the old alchemy equipment again, and knew she should brush up on her theory.)

She sat there for a while, absentmindedly thumbing through the pages of ‘Sacrifices and Trade: A Guide to Experimental Alchemy’ by Abraham Wulfric. Reiner nudged her side, laughing at something. He shoved his phone in her face to show her an unfunny meme, she didn’t bother laughing, instead flipping him off when it became apparent that she had lost her place.

“Heads up.” Bertholdt muttered in warning. “Reiner says we don’t like them, for some reason.”

Sure enough, Armin, Eren, and Eren’s sister were climbing the bleachers. She barely looked up, meeting the eyes of her (sometimes) library buddy. He gave her a determined look, dragging a sulky looking best friend and an expressionless bodyguard behind him. 

“Um… Hey, Annie!” A high pitched voice greeted her. He looked sheepish, the pale skin of his face noticeably pink, strands of his dirty blonde hair stuck up a little—making him look more flustered than usual. Standing beside him was a pouty Eren Jaeger and his impassive looking sister. Though she was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it, instead choosing to nod in greeting. “I… er, wanted to apologize for what happened this morning.”

She blinked slowly, why was it that Armin was apologizing to her about this now? And why had he forced Eren to accompany him while he did it? “It’s fine.” She settled on, and moved back to reading her book. She’d just got to the chapter about the chrysopoeia (the transmutation into gold) and couldn’t help but rub the worn sleeves of her hoodie together. She continued reading, half wondering if she could get away with the subject matter, when an awkward cough interrupted her. Annie looked up again, blinking when she noticed Armin and his friends still standing there. 

“Was…” She trailed off, allowing a small amount of annoyance seep into her expression. “Was there something else you wanted?”

“Yes!” Armin jumped up a little, squeaking awkwardly, “Eren actually wanted to apologize—” (the look on he shot the other boy was so unlike Armin, dark and sharp, that Annie almost had to do a double take) “_ —right_?” Eren shifted uncomfortably, face souring when he looked at Annie. Next to her, Reiner and Bertholdt had stopped pretending to talk to each other, now shamelessly watching the scene in front of them with amused eyes.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “I’m uh, real _ sorry_, Leonhardt.” Eren looked a little less arrogant than usual, but there was a distinct air of _ wealth _ around him that made her irrationally angry. He must look down on her, she realized, with his nice car and designer clothes. Eren must see Annie, her small body and shabby shoes—the bruises on her face that never seem to heal, the bags under her eyes, the hooked nose, and plain face. _ He must look down on her, _ she realized. 

(For the first time in _ this _ life, Annie Leonhardt decided to destroy him.)

A brief lapse of judgement and the desire to simply become the embodiment of petty raged in her chest. Resolving herself, Annie looked up at him with a completely straight face and asked, “Who are you again?” 

It went dead quiet. 

She knew _ why _ of course. The desire she held to end him and the words she had said were so _ violently _ out of character for her that it’d be a blow to anyone listening, not only Eren Jaeger and his stupid middle class money. Annie, in a rare moment of regret, wondered if she had made her disdain for the boy far too obvious. (She sighed inwardly, readying herself from a fierce amount of rage not only from him, but his sister.)

To her surprise, Armin was the first to react, eyes widening so much for a moment it seemed as though they would fall out. He looked at Annie like he was seeing her for the first time, watching as the hourglass that made up the entirety of _ her _ cracked a little, sand seeping from the breach. There was something in Armin’s face then, a look so _ familiar _ (a flare of the nostrils and brief stoke of surprise) a look so endearing that Annie couldn’t help but be reminded of someone—Andrew, she realized. She nearly choked, why did Armin Arlert remind Annie of her _ brother_?

Eren’s sister was next, a quirk of the lips hidden by a deep red scarf. It was quick, subtle, but the action itself was so glaringly obvious Annie couldn’t help that her eyes lingered. It appeared that she wasn’t the _ only _ one prone to fits of uncharacteristic behavior. But that just got her thinking, why on Earth had _ Mikasa Ackerman _ smiled at her—not only that, but why had she done it when Annie had so mercilessly obliterated her brother? Something flashed in dark eyes, dangerous and cold—Annie realized she had been caught staring. 

Finally, it was Eren himself, and his expression delighted her immensely. She’d never felt so spitefully happy until seeing the look on Eren Jaeger's face when she pretended she didn’t know who he was. Briefly, Annie wondered once more why exactly Eren had been so hell bent on annoying her—sure, before she could have easily chalked it up to class difference, or even jealousy, but now she wasn’t so sure. She thought for a moment, trying to put herself in his shoes, why would she be so spiteful to someone she barely knew? It couldn’t be because Eren wanted to be a bully, he despised them, and for all the general nuisance he was—he never actually seemed to insult her. It was more… small things. It reminded Annie of how she treated the more... distasteful adults in Andrew’s life. 

_ There had to be a real reason. _ Annie had suddenly decided. _ He can’t have done everything he’d done just because he had a tiny grudge against me_. Still, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to care enough to actually try and find out what drove the boy in front of her, and promptly discarded any thought she’d taken to consider him with. Beside her, though she hadn’t really noticed, Reiner and Bertholdt had begun to laugh. Snapping out it, blinking away the haze that settled over her mind, she met the green eyes of Eren Jaeger again, tilting his head as he seemed to scramble over himself. Had she really affected him that much?

“I’m…” He stumbled over his words, face reddening at the sounds of Reiner and Bertholdt’s failed attempt to hide their snickers. “I’m Eren Jaeger? We’ve known each other since fourth grade?” At her blank stare, he tried again. “We always have Advanced Spell Crafting together?” 

For a moment, Annie considered ending his suffering. But ultimately decided that she had already started something, she may as well finish it. She pretended to think about it, closing her book and humming in thought. “_Oh_.” She nodded her head a little like she remembered. “You’re the salty green eyed boy.” Reiner and Bertholdt didn’t bother to hide their loud laughter, then. Annie couldn’t quite help the warmth that curled in her chest at the absolute dead look in Eren’s eyes.

“Salty…?” He whispered, turning to his sister. “Hey, Mikasa, have I been... salty?” Eren asked desperately, like he hoped that she’d tell him that Annie was wrong. 

“Hmm.” Mikasa adjusted her red scarf, using it to hide her mouth. She nodded, passionless eyes looking at her brother without much remorse. “Yeah.”

Annie had to look down to hide the small smile that threatened to overcome her passive expression. She didn’t know what she had expected Mikasa to do, but it certainly _ wasn’t _ this. Annie had always been under the distinct impression that Mikasa disliked her, for what reason she couldn’t tell. After all, they hadn’t spoken to each other since fifth grade. (Not that Annie was _ complaining_, of course; she had taken notice of the unreadable and slightly hostile glances that the other girl had been prone to shoot her with.) When they reached high school, that minor dislike had seemingly turned into a much larger feeling of distaste, not helped at all by the fact that Eren delighted in being a general nuisance. 

Armin sighed out loud. Annie knew that he had known she’d been playing with Eren but (much to her pleasure) he’d said nothing, only shooting her an exasperated look in response. “Right, well.” He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “I just wanted to check on you… it doesn’t feel like you’ve had the best morning.” 

Annie stiffened when everyone’s eyes snapped to her. “Oh.” There was something about the look in Armin’s eyes that said he’d known exactly what she’d spent her morning doing. “I can—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said absentmindedly, waving her off easily. “You’re younger brother, he’s like me, yeah? I mean, he’s got the same talent, I helped in Andrew’s kindergarten class so you don’t have to worry about me being a creep or anything.” There was a spark of amusement in Armin’s expression, and for a moment it was almost as if he was teasing her. “Anyway, I’ve known you for years Annie, you don’t have to worry about me saying anything… besides, I always thought you were… kind of brave.” 

It goes quiet again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” Eren tilted his head, dark hair falling into his tan face, somehow ignoring everything else that Armin had said. Maybe he knew. Oh no, what if he _ knew_? That would make so much sense, why he was suddenly apologizing to her—what if he felt _ bad _ for her?

“Somehow it didn’t come up.” She mumbled, looking back down at her book. Annie forcefully swallowed the lump in her throat. “Say, Armin?” She looked back up at him, her ice blue eyes flashing. “Andy… he’s not in trouble, or anything, right?”

“Oh no!” Armin said frantically. “That’s not why I mentioned it at all—” He looked positively embarrassed now, “I just wanted to let you know I’m here if you needed to pick my brain for—for an emergency.”

This time, Eren did look confused, and Annie allowed herself a brief moment spent in relief. It appeared Armin hadn’t told him after all. 

“I’ll keep it in mind.” She said after a moment, deciding right then and there not to _ ever _ take him up on his offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of... came up with this accidentally? I dunno fam, the point is this is really fun to write not gonna lie


	2. CLUSTERS OF DIAMOND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is... difficult. Especially when you're half panicking about someone finding out you've been doing illegal necromancy to make sure your father will actually get up in the morning.

Senior Orientation turned out to be as terrible as forewarned, not that Annie actually paid it any real attention. Instead, she found herself wondering just what the hell she was going to do; if Armin could figure out her situation, who’s to say someone else can’t? She had to make more wards, she realized with a grimace, had to research more magic dampeners and illusion mods. _ Fuck. _ She breathed, _ fuck. _ None of this was helping her, her thought process was tainted by the panic—by the horrible idea that Andrew may be hurt because of their father… because of _ her_. 

“Welcome, seniors!” A cheerful voice greeted. Historia Reiss stood in front of a podium, smiling face captivating and welcoming. It was too bad that most of the students were determined to hate the assembly, it looked like Historia actually put a lot of work into the things around her. “This is _ our _ year, we’ve been preparing for this since we were freshman, the big moment, nearly to the finish line!” Someone in the front of the audience snorted loudly. From where she stood next to her Ymir, Historia’s girlfriend, glared very obviously at the section where the sound had come from. (Ymir was a strange one, but Annie personally like her, they got along well enough—even if Ymir was an asshole ninety-nine percent of the time.)

She wasn’t very amused, normally she’d allow for a tiny smile or the roll of her eyes, but she was too wired, to caught up on the idea that she had to _ fix _ things somehow. Wards were a complicated type of magic, involving a mixture of both runes and arithmancy (the magical equivalent of statistics, basically). Annie was good at the practical application of experimental runes and was alright with more modernized ones—but the type she’d need to stop the detection of dark magic from someone with Magical Synesthesia. It was a rare condition, rare enough that Annie was entirely blindsided when Armin had revealed he had it, it wasn’t often you have two people with that ability in your life… it was so scarce that she never bothered to do any research on how to block it. (Not to mention Andrew would never forgive her if he found out what she had been researching.)

“Annie.” A voice whispered, “Stop twitching.” Reiner soothed. He was oblivious sometimes, unaware of thoughts that spin inside other people’s heads—but every once in a while, he’d become scarily on the same wavelength as her. Gently, slowly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “C’mon, dudette, you can’t help your brother if you freak out.” 

“I have to get to the library.” She murmured, careful to keep her voice quiet. “There’s something I need to do.” She had to work on her wards, she had to make her house safer—she had to look and look and _ look _ . There could be no moment for rest, no second to breathe, the sooner she learned these things, the sooner Andrew was safe. There was a book on magical conditions, one that she knew Librarian Zoë would have. ‘_The Modern Spellcaster's Guide to the Genetics of Fae-born_,’ normally Annie wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole, but she was desperate and that book was the only one that had any reliable information. She had to stop herself from shivering from just thinking about it, everyone knew that ‘_modern spellcaster_’ was a codename for ‘_magical breeder_’. 

The only issue was the fact that Armin wasn’t Fae-born, not like Annie and Andrew were, so how on Earth did he receive the ability? Was it possible that he was adopted, and that he didn’t like to share that fact about himself? Or had his parents messed around with magic they didn’t understand, making a deal with a Fae to give their son power. He did live with his grandpa, Annie thought grimly, it wasn’t hard to jump to conclusions… However, there was still one way that Armin could have gotten the talent without being directly Fae-born like Andrew, perhaps it was a case of recessive genetics. Maybe Armin might have an ancestor who was a Fae-born with Magical Synesthesia, as unlikely as that sounded.

She was interrupted from her thoughts when Reiner huffed, looking away from her to glance at the back of Armin Arlert’s head. (It was quite easy for him, considering the other boy was sitting directly in front of them, on the bleacher directly below theirs.) “Okay… but you have to get through this first day of school, Annie, your dad will probably be pissed if you ditch.” He was grasping at straws by this point.

“I have a plan for that.” She whispered back hastily, all she had to do to get her father off of her back was tell him that she had a moment of magical initiative. Annie knew how to handle her him after eighteen years, and Reiner knew that, which meant that her friend was just trying to get her to stay. He was worried about her, it seemed, and there was nothing she could do to make him feel otherwise. 

“Geez.” He grumbled softly, leaning in close so nobody else but Annie heard his words. “I know what he said really spooked you, but if you need help I’m here—and so is he! Legit, he _ just _ offered to help you out.” Reiner sounded a little desperate now. “C’mon Annie, don’t write us off as useless just yet.”

She hesitated, allowing her gaze to drift back up to where Historia Reiss was happily explaining something about the end of the year magical exams. “—the test will determine your overall D.U.C score, which stands for definite underage casting—”

“It’s called the duck score?” A boy, who she recognized as Connie, asked curiously.

Historia hesitated, she appeared to be holding her breath, and a brief flicker of trepidation crossed her delicate features. “Yes,” She began, “it is—”

Off to the side someone interrupted her by loudly starting to quack. Annie wondered what Historia had really expected to happen when a question like that was asked. 

“I’d give you a D minus—” Someone else commented, they sniffed crossing their arms and tossing their hair. “Your quack culture is _ abysmal_.” Soon the teenagers began quacking out loud, getting their friends to grade them. It got to the point where the most satisfying quack was graded by the sound, overall squeak, and whether or not the student was able to transfigure their lips into convincing orange duck beaks. 

Annie blinked, suddenly wishing she’d just skipped. “Look, Reiner.” She turned to her friend, taking advantage of the chaos in the gym to shamelessly speak to her friend. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, really I do.” She fiddled with the silver ring on her finger, “But I can’t ask you to get involved in this, I can’t ask anyone for help, I mean, part of it is just because I’m a little too proud to ask and an overall coward in general; but mostly it’s because the idea of you in trouble for something my father does makes me sick.”

Reiner went silent suddenly, as though the gravity of the situation had finally began to press down on him. A look of determination passed through his face, and before Annie could shoot him down, he gripped her by the shoulders; drawing her so close to him they were nose to nose. “We’re warriors Annie.” His words were fierce, “And we protect our own.” Something settled over the two of them, loaded with the static of magic and personal implication. 

Their mothers had been of the same Fae clan, Annie remembered distantly, they had been warriors. It was how she had met Reiner in the first place, her mom and his mom had visited from the Fade into the Mortal’s Realm, and taken the two of them to look at the city. It was a great, sprawling, thing; colored in brown and green—a distinct lining of red slipped between the cobblestone streets and rooftop shingles. Even from the gates, Annie could see the frighteningly tall towers made of enchanted ivory, deep in the heart of the city. They had not been allowed to take a step in, as they were still part human; part other. _ Slime-born. _ The fae had whispered, _ children of the dusk and selfish whims of man. _Their words had meant nothing to Annie, but she had seen the way Reiner flinched, seen the way his pale cheeks (unmarked; alien in a place such as this) colored.

When one man had glared at them, having no qualms of being subtle in his distaste for them, she knew that they would not be welcome.

“Mother.” Annie told the woman who had given birth to her. “Maybe we can still see the city if we go up that mountain.” Her voice, sullen and bored even then, made a simple suggestion sound more like a lazy demand. She had pointed upward, gesturing to a menacing hunk of green rock. The mountain had been covered in moss, the bitter and spicy smell of dwarven magic smothering it like a blanket, Annie found herself enjoying the scent—even if both adults physically grimaced at her idea. The two older fae had then exchanged a look, but Annie hadn’t noticed, she had been too busy flicking Reiner’s nose in hopes of cheering him up.

“We are the whisper in earth, children; the hum in the bedrock; made up of the soft sounds that fill our realm’s very _ bones_.” Reiner’s mother had said, accent not so obvious as it was in the Mortal’s Realm. “But the two of you are different.” She had turned to face them when the reached the peak of the mountain, cheeks tattooed in blue branches. “The two of you are all of this and more.” 

“There are plenty of fae-born children in the world.” Reiner had murmured, he was disgruntled. Annie had privately agreed the tone of his voice, where did their mother’s get off, telling them they were _ special?_ “We’re no different than them.” He added sullenly. Reiner had been small then, with brittle, tiny shoulders and a soft, youthful face. 

“You are wrong.” It was Annie’s mother who had said this, and it was the first and last time she’d ever spoken directly to her (though, if she was being honest, her voice sounded more like she was spitting venom than talking to two children.) “You are _ warriors. _” Though the words were meant for the both of them, startling ice blue eyes met their twin, and the inexplicable feeling of kinship (though Annie didn’t even know her mother’s name) bonded them together. 

She’s brought back to the gym, staring at Reiner. It’s quiet now. She realized, Historia must have gotten control of the class. Her friend lets go of her, and they return to listening in on the assembly, though Annie can’t quite disregard the words he had said, the words their mothers had stressed to them.

_ “We are the whisper in earth, children; the hum in the bedrock; made up of the soft sounds that fill our realms very _ ** _bones_**_.” _

Just what had they meant to tell them? Annie wondered, why had they taken them to see the city once, to fuck their father’s and give birth one more time—before retreating into the fade, before abandoning their children.

_ “But the two of you are different.” _

At least Reiner and Annie knew what their mothers had looked like, Robert and Andrew couldn’t even remember _ seeing _ them. She knew for sure that Andrew even frequently forgot the woman’s fucking _name_.

_ “The two of you are all of this and more.” _

What did the want from their children? Annie wondered, had they only meant to sire children? The half-fae Braun brothers and the three quartered Leonhardt children?

_ “You are wrong.” _ Her mother had said with fierceness. _ “You are warriors.” _ Her voice had been a hiss, had been a slip of the tongue—an accident. She couldn’t have possibly meant to speak to them this way, like they should be grateful of the blood that flowed through their veins, that they should be happy that all the other children had weak and loving mothers while theirs were powerful and absent. But it didn’t matter what she had _ meant _ to do, Annie knew now, the point was that she had done something else, something crueler. 

She had expected little five year-old Annie Leonhardt to know the difference between a mother’s love and a mother’s obligation.

* * *

As it turned out, she had Mikasa Ackerman for nearly every class except two; which meant that she would have to see the other girl for a little over four hours a day. How wonderful. It wasn’t like she actually _ talked _ to her or anything, but Mikasa was… an _ outlier _ that Annie didn’t appreciate. Thankfully, she had either Reiner and Bertholdt in most of her classes too, so she never had to face those empty black eyes alone. However, there was one class where Annie was unconditionally and absolutely alone. The Major Advanced Spell Crafting class. (M.A.S.C for short.)

Annie was unfortunately surrounded, she didn’t have Reiner to fall back on, as he had dropped the subject in favor of taking a minor magical healing class, making it so she was forced to interact with other people. Thankfully, her clothes were still saturated with death magic, so only Armin (who always scored third place) and Ymir (who seemed to reveal in the looks Annie was getting) were actually willing to talk to her. That brought on an entirely different set of issues that Annie was entirely too _ unwilling _ to deal with. Still, it was the last class of the day, and after this she got to go pick up Andrew and Robert with Reiner. (It was always funny watching the two boys interact, even more when Reiner was there to stir the pot.)

That, of course, didn’t mean she couldn’t get frustrated. Not only was the M.A.S.C teacher Mr. Rodulphus replaced, but for some reason… Eren seemed to think he could _ talk _ to her now, just because Armin was. Of course that then brought his sister into it, because where he goes she goes, and then now Annie had to socialize with these people who she was pretty sure used to hate her. It was… confusing, to say the least. 

“Annie, do you know the answer to number five?” Eren asked frowning, “I don’t get it… why did Mx. Peregrinus give us a worksheet to do on the first day back? I mean, maybe a refresher would be fine, but one with a bunch of laws and equations we haven’t even been _ taught _ yet? Torture.” 

“Blasphemy.” Interrupted Armin. “You’re just salty because you don’t get it.” Annie had quickly caught on that Armin and Mikasa had been calling Eren ‘_salty_’ all day, a turn of events she didn’t know how to feel about. “Not to mention they haven’t taught us before, and probably need to see what we know.”

“Of course I don’t _ fucking _ get it!” Eren waved his arms desperately, gesturing to himself, “What about ‘_he hasn’t taught us this shit_’ do you not understand?”

“Language, Jaeger.” Their new teacher halfheartedly chastised from where they were playing mobile games on their phone. “Say anything like that again and it’ll be detention for a week.”

Eren fumed, face reddening has he mumbled sarcastic apologies, but Peregrinus didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway…” He said, quieter this time, “Can you help me out, Annie?”

She stared at him for a second, wondering why he hadn’t just asked Armin or Mikasa. She resolved herself, she'd made him look stupid in front of everyone earlier today, he least she could do was help him out with a simple problem. “Yeah alright, which one?”

Eren grinned, scooting his desk closer to hers, ignoring Armin and Mikasa’s incredulous looks. “_Dope_!” He kind of reminded her of an overexcitable puppy. “Okay so here’s the deal, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Obviously.” Annie rolled her eyes, looking down at his paper. “You take everything said in the problem way too seriously, and rely on the idea that none of your previous runes will change when you add on another—” She pointed at the problem. “What you’re _ supposed _ to be doing is mixing different parts of the boiling curse, _ Feruentem _ , and the water charm, _ Facereaquam _, in order to create a minor theoretical spell to conjure boiling water from nothing.” She explained, “Your runes would be fine if we were dealing with two of the same types of spell, but one is a curse and the other a charm; they don’t mix perfectly.”

Eren paused, looking down at his paper with a frown. “I think I get it… but how would I make the spell actually work?” When Annie only blankly stared, he continued, “I know the problem says theoretical, but what if I actually wanted to make a spell from the curse and the charm that conjures boiling water?”

“Eren!” Armin interrupted with wide eyes. “The purpose of this assignment was to show our understanding of runes and their reactions to things, you can’t honestly expect Annie to know—”

“Well,” Annie thought out loud, not noticing him flounder, “First you’d have to break the curse down to bare essentials, examine the intent it was created; which would take some research, but from what I’ve found, it was meant to boil a person’s insides—” She ignored Armin’s head snapping towards her, “—I’ve found however, that you can easily use it to boil anything else with liquid inside of it, once you understand which runes allow it to not only function as a type of curse, but dark version of a charm, you can take into account the spell for water examine the language used and intent of castor and go from there—after all you’d have to do is consider what type of spell you want to create, which magic you’d be using, and which elemental runes you’d have to infuse to make it the most effective.” She frowned a little. “Though that process would without a doubt lead to many injuries, and your little spell would be classified as a minor jinx or hex.”

“P-pardon?” Eren interrupted. There was a look on his face that she couldn’t identify, a profound mixture of awe and terror that she’d never seen from him before. (Behind him, his sister was watching her with unreadable eyes.)

Annie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a pointed cough. 

“Well done, Miss Leonhardt.” Peregrinus said, grinning from ear to ear, there was a particular sugary sweetness to their smile that set her hair on end. The teacher had moved from sitting at their desk to leaning on the wall at the back of the class, where Annie had been sitting. They wore a pair of sunglasses, the ones you might see California surfers wearing while they laughed on the beach. Annie wondered why. “Tell me,” Their smile only grew broader, white teeth contrasting against dark lips, “Where, _ exactly_, did you learn that?” 

Annie said nothing, staring blankly at the teacher, there was a knowing glint to their persona that told her she needed to be careful. Now that she noticed them, she couldn’t help but feel that Peregrinus had an aura that screamed power—it felt like she was being stared down by a warrior not a _ high school teacher_. 

“Hmm.” Peregrinus smiled still, unfazed by her lack of an answer. “You remind me of your father.” They moved to walk away shooting her a pleasant look. “Though you look and talk too much like your mother for me to credit everything to Lionel.” 

Annie barely blinked, staring down her teacher with an expressionless face. When she was sure everyone had looked away, she swallowed the lump in her throat, looking down at her hands. Her fingers twitched, the only sign that she was becoming emotionally distressed. Who was this person? And how did they know who her mother was? _ Annie _ barely knew who her mother was! The class continued without further incident, but she was quieter than before, afraid that prolonged interaction with people would cause an emotional breakdown that she wasn’t ready to handle. 

Ymir (who had been laughing at her the entire period up to that point) kept shooting her scrutinizing looks; as if she couldn’t quite decide to check and see if Annie had been cursed or not. (Which was fair, because she wasn’t quite sure if Ymir was wrong.) It was kind of funny though, watching her frown, face screwed up so that she looked slightly constipated. Annie had to hide her smile more than once, which unfortunately the other teenager had noticed. 

“Leonhardt.” Ymir hissed when the class was excused for the day. She’d stalked up to Annie, tall frame slightly imposing as she placed her hands on her hips. “What the _ fuck_?” She couldn’t tell if her question came from a genuine place of concern or just a profound desire to stick her nose into her business. (Annie suspected it was the latter.)

She blinked slowly, almost innocently, tilting her head the slightest to the side in such a way Ymir visibly fumed. “You’re going to have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

“What was that thing!” Ymir gestured rapidly. “The thing about the curses and the jinxes and the—why are you _ laughing_?!”

“I’m not.” Annie said, though her lips had quirked up a little, and Ymir knew her well enough to know that was as much as she laughed at anyone. “I don’t know why you’re worried.”

“Well,” Armin interrupted, making Annie notice that he, Eren, Mikasa hadn’t gotten up to go home. “Peregrinus _ did _ mention your parents.” She’d forgotten that he was there, something she only regretted because he knew information about her that could poke holes into her icy exterior.

“And that’s special?” She asked casually, beginning to pack up her things. “Teachers ask about family all the time.” Annie slung her bag to her shoulder. “I don’t know what makes this out of the ordinary.” 

“But you never talk about your dad.” Armin pointed out, shifting. “And… and your mother—”

“Is…?” Annie interrupted, raising a single pale brow. She was curious about what Armin had to say, she knew that there was some speculation about her parents, the town was too small for people not to know the gist of other people’s business.

“She’s… gone—isn’t she?” He mumbled. Armin averted his gaze, looking profoundly uncomfortable. Served him right, for mentioning her mother like that. (She may have been the slightest bit pissed off.) “I… I heard that, well—”

“For fucks sake, Arlert.” Ymir rolled her eyes. “Spit it out or let someone else say it.” She crossed her arms, short sleeved shirt making her tan arms look longer than they were. 

“Well…” Armin tried again, hesitantly looking Annie in the eye. “She’s—she’s in the other world, isn’t she?” At her blank look, he elaborated. “The… The Fade, she’s in the Fade.” 

She shrugged, not bothering to answer him and continuing on her way out of the classroom. Patience was not one of her strong suits when it came to personal things, not to mention she couldn’t lie for shit—so it would be very obvious if Armin hit the nail on the head. (Not to mention the fact that Annie doesn’t actually know where her mother is, it isn’t like they made a book about tracking your Fae mother when she goes to the other world and disappears for about eleven years.)

She walked briskly out of the school, ignoring the looks shot to her because of her magic, and made her way to her father’s car—her fingers continued to twitch, the only sign that she was disturbed.

“Hey Annie, how was class?” A jovial voice called from the passenger side of the car. Her best friend was leaning against the door by himself (Bertholdt must have gone home) and smiled at her easily. 

She didn’t answer Reiner, instead unlocking the doors to the car and slipping into the driver's seat. Annie pressed her forehead to the steering wheel and suppressed a deep sigh. Why was Armin Arlert such a pain? She bemoaned in her head. Why couldn’t he mind his own business like everyone else did?

Her gaze went to where Eren had parked his car, making eye contact with his sister. Even though the other teenager stood too far away from Annie to tell, she could have sworn there was a look of… understanding in her dead, passionless eyes.

Annie looked away, recoiling as if burned, and started the car while Reiner tried to endlessly cheer her up. Though she wasn’t looking, Annie could have sworn Mikasa Ackerman’s eyes followed her all the way out of the parking lot.

_ Summer was over. _


	3. FLASHES OF FLAME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew brings up some good points, Annie doesn't like it when people she barely knows try and talk to her.

“What’s up with you, Squish?” Andrew asked, lips pulling into a frown. “You’ve been real cloudy since you’ve picked me up.”

Annie didn’t quite know what to say to him, her lips twisting as she thought about how to reply. She didn’t like having her younger brother know every single little worrying thing she thought of, he was a _ kid_—he shouldn’t have to worry about his incompetent father or his cold older sister. But that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve to know about certain things. 

“School sucks.” She said simply, eyeing him from the corner of her eye. (Which was quite hard, considering he was sitting in the back of the car and looking out the window.) “...and dad’s magic hung around my aura a bit too much for it to not suck.” 

“Ohhhhh.” He nodded, “Did someone sniff you out, Squish?”

“Mhmm.” She hummed. “Armin.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhh!” He snapped his head toward her, voice much more enthusiastic. “He’s cool—but he’s… he’s like me, right?”

“Mhmm.” She hummed again. Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, and noticed with some reluctance that Andrew’s smile was beginning to fade. “I’m just… stressed, I don’t like it when people can tell what kind of magic I’ve been doing, it leads to all sorts of loose ends.”

“Armin won’t say anything.” Andrew protested quietly. “You know he won’t.”

Annie held back the urge to say that _ no, _ she _ didn’t _ know that, and sighed. “It’s not him I’m worried about.” She lied with gentleness that she didn’t feel. “It’s the fact that dad’s been tinkering with a couple new… less than desirable projects.” 

“And?” Andrew asked, voice quick. “So?”

Annie fought the urge to roll her eyes. “So, we could get in a lot of trouble if someone decides to report us to the Guard, it’d be worse for us—single father dabbling into the darker arts and his teenage daughter having to learn to get him out of scrapes while his tiny whelp of son can only watch. It doesn’t exactly paint the greatest picture, kid.”

“I’m seven,” Andrew protested, “I’m not a_ tiny whelp_.” 

“Andy.” Annie sighed, exasperated. “You know what I mean.”

He went silent, and she took the opportunity to turn on the radio—though she made sure it was on one of the lowest volume settings just in case he wanted to speak up again. He didn’t. When they got home, Andrew was slow going to get out of the car, a sign that meant he was clearly conflicted by something. Usually he’d rush off the car, slamming the door and tripping over himself to get inside, excited to watch his cartoons and play his games. 

Annie got out of the car, moving to the back and opening the car door for her brother, squatting down so she could talk to him face to face.

“Is Dad a bad man?” Andrew asked, looking up at her with an unreadable look in his eyes. (It was a sight that made him look nearly identical to her, the blankness in his eyes—on his face, it made her wary.) 

“Who told you that?” Annie answered his question with a question, her voice uncharacteristically soft. 

Andrew chewed on his lips, suddenly appearing far younger than he did before. It startled her for a moment, the realization that her brother is only seven years old—that he’d only recently cast his first successful spell. It makes her stomach churn, the weariness that fills her at the sight of him. How long had he been pretending for her? How long had he played adult?

“There was a man in class today.” Andrew mumbled. “From the Guard.”

Annie’s face went pale. (Well, _ paler_.) “And what did he say?”

“He told us all about what the Guard did, he told us that they hunted down Black Magic users and said that people who practiced death magic were bad—he said that messing with stuff like curses and necromancy and that it was selfish and cruel magic.” Andrew said quickly, his words surging forward like water from a broken damn. “He said that people like you and dad were _ evil, _ and that we’d be evil too if used that type of magic.” 

“I see.” Annie whispered softly. “And what do you want to know from me?”

“Are you and Dad… _ bad?_” 

“I’m not.” She told him, carefully brushing back a piece of his dirty blonde hair, tucking it behind his ear. “And Dad’s… not entirely.”

Andrew looked stricken. “_Why _ then? Why does he do it then? And why do you clean up after him? And why do people think that you two are—” He cut himself off, his tongue tying as he tried to force the words from his mouth.

“I don’t know why he practices magic, Andy.” She told him honestly, “And I don’t know why people would judge us just for the type of magic we were born with.” Annie cupped his face, making it so his icy blue eyes (melted by emotion, blazing in terror and desperation) met her own. “But I do know that the only reason _ I _ do these things is to make sure that Dad doesn’t get in trouble, to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt when he risks himself.”

“But why do you help him? Why not just turn him in?” Andrew asked. 

She was surprised for a moment, these questions were beginning to sail into uncharted territory. The truth was, she didn’t want to tell him everything that she and their father had done to themselves and to each other. She didn’t want him knowing that one wrong move by him or her would tear down the entire life they had built for themselves. But… she couldn’t find it in herself to actually _ lie _ to her brother, to mislead him and pull the wool over his eyes to what she was doing, to what her father was doing.

“I help because I’m selfish.” Annie explained quietly. “Because I don’t want Dad to leave us, and I don’t want you to grow up without a parent… I don’t want us to be alone.”

Andrew frowned. “That’s… that isn’t selfish.” 

“It is.”

“_No_! No, it’s not.” He protested, surprisingly empathetic in his refusal of her words. “You just want me to be happy, and you want Dad to be okay, you just don’t want to be by yourself!”

She smiled a little, a quirk of her lips. He didn’t understand yet, why her desires were so selfish—why the things she did to make sure what she wanted stayed the way they were supposed to was so bad. Annie didn’t know what to do now, but she did know that her brother was remarkably innocent and that he seemed to love her very much. 

“I think it’s selfish.” Annie said. “But you don’t have to agree with me if you don’t want to.” 

“Well good then!” Andrew crossed his arms, glaring at her defensively. “Because it isn’t selfish, and I’m going to prove it to you! You’ll see.”

“Okay.” She whispered softly. “Whatever you say.”

* * *

School continued on, and it was clear that Annie’s senior year was shaping up to be almost nothing like her past years of school. For one thing, Eren and his friends seemed to be adamant on befriending her—even if it was mostly Armin who pushed for the other two actually talk to her. She didn’t quite know how to feel about that, Eren and Mikasa trying to get her to… what, be friends with them? It was strange, to say the least. Especially since Eren had seemed to despise her just sometime before the first day of school and Mikasa seemed content to quietly hate her. 

She… was confused.

(She didn’t like being confused.)

Reiner was always a constant staple in her life, and Bertholdt seemed determined to befriend her on her own merits, not just because he was dating her friend.

Annie had never really talked to so many people before, and it was beginning to get draining. Why had everyone suddenly decided it was alright to talk to her now? Why couldn’t they have done it before so she’d be used to it by now? Why couldn’t they have done nothing at all?

Ymir, who she barely traded much of any words with, found her plight increasingly amusing as time wore on, and took it upon herself to shamelessly tease her whenever she could—even if Annie barely ever reacted. 

Another point of stress on her life, was her teacher Mx. Peregrinus. They seemed adamant on never directly talking to Annie ever again, which would normally be welcome, if not for the increasing amount of subtle looks the teacher seemed to take pleasure in shooting her. It was beginning to drive her crazy, the fact that this person did not only know who her mother was—but knew her well enough that they could comment on her like it was _ nothing_. The very thought of it nearly drove Annie to frustrated tears, who was this person? Why did they know her mother? And why did they even bother mention her? Surely, _surely_, they knew that Annie's mother had thrown her family to the rats, leaving the second it was convenient for her?

It didn’t help that her father had refused to talk about it, and often threw himself into his work when she asked, making it harder and harder for her to scrub the residue dark magic off of herself. 

On a much brighter side of things, Andrew seemed to be excelling in his magic classes, if a little behind when it came to the non-mystical side of subjects. 

“I just don’t get it, Squish.” He bemoaned. “Why do I have to bother learning about _ science_?” He spat the word like it had done everything wrong in the world. 

Annie had sighed, and spent the rest of the evening explaining to him that knowing how things work _ without _ the interference of magic would help him with some of his spells in the long run. It was always important to know the components of things if wanting to create a spell, or if wanting to break down the equation when it came to spells. There was also lots of benefits when it came to studying science while dabbling in magic, after all—if you understood how clouds formed it would be much easier to create a thunderstorm. 

Andrew had sucked up the information like a sponge, and though he still despised science as a whole, stopped complaining about the uselessness of it. 

It made her uneasy, when Andrew had revealed he thought science would not help him and that many of his classmates felt the same. This was no doubt due to the continuing contact from the _ Human _ realm to the _ Other _ realms. With more and more Others beginning to make a life on Earth and more and more Humans making a life in places like the Fade, it made sense that things like science were becoming the subject of scorn. She knew that many of the ‘pure’ Humans were often agitated when it came to the Others and their snubbing of non-magical achievements. It had caused many skirmishes in the past, and they were lucky that it had never led to an outright war.

Annie decided to make sure that Andrew paid attention when his teacher taught science but history as well, it wouldn’t do him any good if he didn’t know why his opinion on non-magic subjects was so dangerous. 

Unfortunately for her, the increased interest in Andrew’s school work brought her under her brother’s surprisingly insightful scrutiny.

“Do you have _ any _ friends?” He’d asked one day, high pitched voice doubtful. “I mean… all you seem to do is help me with my homework, make sure Dad wakes up from his magical ex-haus-tion—” (he had to sound out the word) “—comas, and read books that you shouldn’t be reading.” (He was rather judgement when it came to studying topics their father was dabbling in, not that she would necessarily blame him.)

“I have Reiner.” She pointed out, frowning at him.

“Other than Reiner.” Her brother deadpanned. “All you two do together is talk about weird teenager things and hex each other.”

“I _don’t_ hex Reiner.” She reminded him. “I curse him.”

“You know, somehow I didn’t think you could get any worse.” 

Annie stared at him.

"I was wrong."

She scowled.

“Isn’t there a football game tonight?” Andrew asked. “Why don’t you go there and make friends? All Mother knows you need it.”

“Don’t invoke her name.” Their father said, slipping into the kitchen and pulling out a jar of peanut butter, before pausing. “Say, Andy, when did you get religious?”

“You know what religion is?” Andrew asked, looking dubious.

Annie sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Yes.” Dad chuckled. “I do know about religion, quite a few.”

“Oh.” Andrew looked disgruntled, as though he’d come to a conclusion that he hadn’t before. “Okay.”

“Do you actually worship the All Mother?” Annie asked, sounding tired. 

“No. But Bobby does.” 

Annie stiffened. “Do you _ want _ to worship the All Mother?” 

“Not really, she can’t really do much here on Earth.” Andrew pointed out. “And I’ve never been to the Fade, so why bother?”

Annie sighed. “Right.”

Her father was uncharacteristically silent, and it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“Dad,” Andrew began, “Do you think Annie needs more friends?”

The stiff atmosphere was immediately broken.

“Well, you can never have too many friends.” Their father pointed out, before looking quizzically at Annie. “Say, Annie, whatever happened to that Ackerman girl who had a crush on you in sixth grade?”

Annie blinked slowly. “Mikasa?”

Dad nodded, snapping his fingers rapidly. “Right, Mikasa was her name—she was always looking at you, didn’t you know? My little Annie, already a heartbreaker.” He looked wistful.

A very mean voice in the back of her head wanted to ask if it reminded him of her mother.

She imagined hitting the cruel voice with a sword, thinking things like '_back foul beast!_'

“But… Mikasa broke my _ nose _ in sixth grade.” Annie said, ignoring the angry hissing in the back of her mind. “She didn’t even say sorry.” It had been an accident of course, but _ still_, an apology would have been appreciated. After all, one didn’t just _ forget _ a broken nose.

“Ah, young love.” Her father continued, ignoring her.

Andrew stared at him for a moment, looking more disappointed than Annie thought he was ever capable of. “So, the football game?” He turned to her. “You’re going, right?”

“No.” Annie said simply. “Now finish your subtraction.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, ignoring her. “C’mon, Squish! I know Reiner’s going, his boyfriend what’s-his-face is on the team.”

“Bertholdt.” 

“What’s-his-face.” Andrew shot back, unashamed. “You’re going to that game, you’re going to make friends, and you’re going to have _ fun. _ ” He kicked her shin underneath the table, glaring at her icily. “And you’re going to _ like _ it.”

She thought for a moment, considering. “No.”

Andrew screamed out loud, slamming his head on the table.

“Careful.” She chided emotionlessly, lifting his head of the wood. “You’ll loose brain cells, then get brain damage, then you'll forget everything, and never be able to anything worthwhile ever again.”

“I don’t care.” Andrew whined, pouting at her. “Dad! Annie won’t go to the...” He trailed off when his eyes met his father’s. “...game.” Her brother suddenly looked very tired.

“You should go to the game.” Dad said chidingly.

“And you should learn not to eat peanut butter straight out of the jar.” She shot back. “Or at least with a spoon.”

“I’m an adult.” Their father said. “I can do as I like.” He smiled now. “And that means forcing you to go out and socialize or face my wrath.”

“Wrath?” Andrew mumbled.

“Like anger.” Annie told him, before turning to her father. “No.” She paused. “Please.”

“Using your nice words? Ha, that won’t change a thing!” Her father exclaimed, despite now looking very conflicted. (After all, she didn’t often use words like ‘please’ or ‘thank you.’)

“Please?” She asked again, allowing her lower lip to move downwards. It wasn’t quite a pout, but it was as good as he was going to get.

Her father looked quite flustered. “I can’t hear you!” He shouted, placing his hands over his ears and shutting his eyes. “My adorable daughter is _ not _ pouting and _ will _ be going to the, uh, _ sports _ game!” He turned to Andrew then, opening a single eye. “It was a sports game right?”

Andrew nodded.

Her father nodded back, once again closing his eyes.

Annie felt disgruntled, she didn’t like being called adorable, but she was willing to play the part if that meant she didn’t have to go outside. 

Dad hesitantly opened his eyes, as if expecting her to be holding some sort of weapon. “You… will… take the… car…” He grunted in effort, pretending not to see her tiny sad face. “Have… fun.” And then he was fleeing, muttering something about his lack of immunity to his cute daughter’s face.

Andrew turned to her, looking smug.

She sighed softly, looking down mournfully at her books, “Fine.”

* * *

Annie ended up giving Reiner a ride. He looked like a mixture of amused and bewildered, only outright laughing when she grudgingly admitted why she was actually participating in a social event.

“Shut up.” She snapped as the pulled into the parking lot. “You don’t get to laugh, Mister ‘I will never go to a football game in my life.’” Reiner had despised many of the sports played at the high school, and had told her such on more than one occasion. It was funny how the moment he snagged a boyfriend on the football team he was suddenly a football fanatic. (Bertholdt was a linebacker... he didn't like it all that much because he didn't like to tackle people, and that was what linebackers did.)

He looked a tad sheepish, but the teasing glint in his eyes never faded. “Don’t worry, Annie, it’ll be fun—okay no need to look at me like that Annie-! Wait what are you doing, oh All Mother get _away_ from me-! Annie _no—_”

And that’s how Reiner ended up with green hair and orange skin.

“C’mon Annie change it back.” Reiner whined, “People are laughing.”

“No.” She refused, lips twitching upwards. “If you like football so much why not show a little school spirit?” 

“You’re so mean to me.” He cried. “I’m telling Andrew!”

“Like he would ever believe a word _ you _ said.” She stated coldly, “When he was in kindergarten you convinced Bobby who convinced Andy that for the first day of school they had to paint their faces orange and draw on fake mustaches.”

“That was funny! This is _ torture_—there’s a _ difference_.” 

She shrugged, walking up the bleachers and settling in the very back. It was still a little early, and the game hadn’t started yet. Though most students avoided being near them because of Annie’s icy expression, none of them were bothered enough by her not to laugh at Reiner’s predicament. 

“Hey you guys!” A voice shouted, Annie looked down near the bottom of the bleachers to notice Armin and Mikasa. She was surprised to see them without Eren, only to remember he was on the team. (He was a wide receiver.) Armin was waving at them enthusiastically, hurrying up the steps while Mikasa leisurely followed him. He huffed when he finally made it to them, wheezing a little. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

She nodded solemnly. “Reiner is just so _ full _ of school spirit—”

He elbowed her, green eyebrows knitting together in what would have been an impressive glare had it not been for his… modifications. 

Armin sniffed the air after a moment, shooting Annie a slightly chastising look. “Annie, that smells almost permanent.”

She looked at him for a moment, not surprised he’d managed to figure out what she’d done. “Fine.” She grumbled sullenly, flicking Reiner in the forehead and undoing her curse.

“You cursed me permanently?!” Reiner whined. “_ Dude _!”

“You were being an ass.” She shrugged, not looking at him. “Are you really so surprised?”

“No.” Reiner admitted with a pout, shaking her shoulder with his hand. “Considering things this was actually surprisingly tame.”

“_Tame_?” Armin interjected in disbelief. “ _ That _ was tame?”

Mikasa nodded. “He looked like an oompa loompa.”

“He _ is _ an oompa loompa.” Annie mumbled, much to the chagrin of Reiner.

“Annie!” He pouted. “I thought we were friends.”

“Your mistake.”

“_Annie_!”

Mikasa snorted, slipping beside Annie as Armin sat next to Reiner. “You’re good at that.”

“Hmm?”

“Curses.” There was a way Mikasa said the word, like it had much more meaning than Annie had thought. “You didn’t even have to say anything to undo it.”

“Annie’s always been good at curses.” Reiner mumbled sullenly. “Creating them at least.”

“Dad’s a wannabe cursebreaker.” She elbowed Reiner in the ribs. “It comes with the territory.” 

Mikasa made a delayed noise of interest, tilting her head towards her and eyeing her curiously. “What does he specialize in?”

Annie fought a frown. “A little of this, a little of that.” She waved her hand dismissively, “He’s interested in the heavier side of the Demuto branches of magic.”

The Demuto was a branch of the Muto tree of magic. Most of the spells labeled ‘Demuto’ were the ones that changed the body in a more negative way—like the near permanent blindness curse, a cruel act of magic that made the eyes invert on themselves so the person couldn’t see anything. Not only was it very painful, but it was near impossible to reverse. Because of her father’s interest in the Demuto, Annie found her interest in the ‘Eumuto’ harmless or positive changes to the body, and the ‘Immuto’ the counter branch for all Muto type of magic. 

Suffice to say, her father liked to fiddle with the types of things he shouldn’t. 

“Interesting.” Mikasa said and turned back to watch the field as the football teams got ready, waiting for the coin toss to tell who got the ball first. 

Annie shifted uncomfortably. Inexplicably, she was immediately reminded of the time in sixth grade, when Mikasa had accidentally broke her nose. It made her slightly nauseous, thinking about the swing of the door and the horrid _ crunch _ that came after it. She turned to face the game, nudging Reiner’s knee with her own and slipping on her earbuds in an attempt to ignore anyone and everyone. 

Briefly, she wondered if Mikasa had broken her nose on purpose—only to remember the panicked fumbling of tiny sixth grader hands patting her shoulders and helping her stand from where she’d fallen. She’d met Mikasa in fifth grade, a year after she met Eren, and she’d _ always _ been untouchable—a blank face to everyone but her foster brother. 

That’s why she had been so surprised when her nose had been broken, Annie remembered, not because it hurt or because she hadn’t expected it—but because Mikasa had been visibly _ agitated_. She’d never seen like that when someone in the class had gotten hurt before, only Eren. At the time, Annie had chalked it up to the fact that Mikasa had been the one doing the hurting and it was a moderately serious injury, so _ of course _ she’d been alarmed. 

But then two weeks later some boy had made a comment about Annie’s still healing nose (her father couldn’t afford the trip to the hospital that used magic and so they had to settle for waiting for it to heal normally) and Mikasa had punched him in the mouth, knocking out some teeth. Again, Annie had chalked it up to the fact that just before that he’d said something about Eren’s slightly pointed ears and left it at that, returning to practicing a minor modification spell on Reiner to make his tongue blue. (A spell that was considered Eumuto.)

_ (“Say, Annie, whatever happened to that Ackerman girl who had a crush on you in sixth grade?”) _

Did her father see something she didn’t? It was certainly possible, sixth grade was around the time Andrew had been born, so her mother was around—allowing her father a moment from his self-destructive loneliness to turn into a man who genuinely paid attention to his children.

Still, she didn’t like thinking these things about a girl who quite literally was sitting right next to her, and tried to focus on the music blasting in her ears. (She didn’t bother to try and pay attention to the game, occasionally rolling her eyes when Reiner cheered for Bertholdt.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't abandoned this!!! but it is a side project (i use this to mess with the concept of magic... i wanna build my own magical world...) so you probably shouldn't expect consistent updates


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